My life stories · The stories we share

The Wounds We Hide

  
This post is for me to sum up a few life-changing thoughts I gleaned from a talk on vulnerability. I highly recommend listening to it. Maybe it’s not something you struggle with, but you know someone who does. Maybe, like me, you’ve been denying your own vulnerabilities for as long as you can remember. If you aren’t convinced it’s worth your time, maybe this post will do that for you. 🙂 Click here to listen to the talk, then click on the red arrow at the top.

Vulnerability isn’t usually a fun subject, is it? We love reading about characters with weaknesses, partly because we want to know we aren’t the only ones with wounds to hide, but many of us would rather build safe walls around our hearts than reveal those wounds to others.

Vulnerability is part of the human experience. It’s not a design flaw. Human beings exist in a state that necessitates cooperation, shared experiences, and interdependence. That can’t be a reality if all we share are our Instagram-worthy moments and Facebook-perfect statuses. We all long to connect on a deeper level, no matter how much we may also fear that.

Courage is needed to admit and embrace our own vulnerability. Courage comes from the latin for heart, meaning “to live with a full heart”. Am I going to allow fear to keep my heart in pieces, hidden in the dark behind shields that only mask who I really am? Will I break free from this wall when it feels like my only safety?

The suffering that exposes our vulnerability doesn’t have to be feared. Suffering leads to endurance, and endurance leads to character, and character leads to hope… and hope does not put us to shame. 

Hope. There it is again. I write to be whole. I write to make sense of life, and myself. I write because you, dear reader, and I both have human vulnerabilities, and writing reaches them across voids. I write because of this hope…hope that does not put us to shame, because we are seen completely and still loved beyond our imaginations. For while I was still weak (helpless, unable to do anything for myself), at the right time Christ died for the ungodly, for the me that was without Him.

Dear Vulnerability, I’ve avoided you like the plague in so many ways. Now that I know you are no mistake, I’m learning to accept you. It’s hard work. But as I learn to accept you, I become more like myself-the self I was meant to be. Courageous, whole and free.

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